


Atmospheric Conditions

by SolarMorrigan



Series: Solar's 007 Fest 2019 [4]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: 007 Fest, Casual Sex, M/M, just some silliness I guess?, sorta fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-09 12:47:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19476232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolarMorrigan/pseuds/SolarMorrigan
Summary: Felix wouldn’t have said that he’d jumped at the opportunity to visit London on business, but he certainly hadn’t said “no”; the chance to see MI6’s quartermaster again hadn’t been at the top of Felix’s mind, either, but it was certainly a perk.





	Atmospheric Conditions

**Author's Note:**

> Day 4! Felix Leiter Day! So this fic is kind of a sequel to [this Felix/Q headcanon](https://solarmorrigan.tumblr.com/post/176028730593/headcanon-felixq-im-gonna-blame-thank) I posted last year and does sort of make reference to it. Also fills "Raindrops" on the [Fluff Prompt Table](https://mi6cafe.wordpress.com/007-fest/007-fest-2019-prompt-tables/)

The evening had been – nice. Very nice, in fact.

Felix wouldn’t have said that he’d jumped at the opportunity to visit London on business, but he certainly hadn’t said “no”; the chance to see MI6’s quartermaster again hadn’t been at the top of Felix’s mind, either, but it was certainly a perk.

Q had sought Felix out once all the official glad-handing and liaising had concluded, still straight-backed and professional, and had asked if he might repay Felix the favor of the excellent meal he’d treated Q to when he’d visited the States.

Studiously ignoring the way Bond (who, true to form, had somehow finagled his way into the meeting despite having no business being there, God only knew why) was smirking at the both them, Felix had accepted, graciously and equally professional, and that was how they ended up at a pub not far from Q’s place, exchanging stories of the trade over fish and chips.

“You can’t come to England and not have fish and chips,” Q had said slyly as he’d ushered Felix into a building that looked like it’d been there since before Christ. “It’s just not done.”

Felix wasn’t entirely sure if Q was pulling his leg or not, but the food was good, the beer was decent, and the company was promising, so he let it slide.

They didn’t linger long in the pub once they’d finished their drinks; they both knew where the night was headed. Still, the walk back to Q’s apartment was surprisingly companionable as they continued their conversation from dinner with the noise of light traffic to accompany them. There was the promise of a good night ahead, and it was a nice walk.

At least, it was until the sky opened up and dumped half the water in England on them.

With only a few raindrops to warn them, Felix had sworn and Q had shouted in surprise before tugging Felix in the direction of his, thankfully not too far off, apartment building.

They stumbled into the lobby out of breath and soaked to the bone. “Should’ve known better than to walk around in goddamn London without an umbrella,” Felix grumbled, attempting to wipe the worst of the rain from his face.

“Think of it as an essential part of the London experience,” Q replied, more amused than any man had a right to be while soaking wet, and gestured to the stairs. “Come on. I’m at the top.”

Felix followed behind, preventing himself from analyzing what seemed to be very lackluster security for someone so high on the MI6 food chain—not his business, Q could take care of himself—by enjoying the way Q’s drenched slacks clung to his ass as he climbed the stairs.

Most of the security Felix had been expecting seemed to have been employed on Q’s front door, as the man spent an extra few moments keying in codes faster than even Felix could follow before letting him in. Q flipped on the hall light once they were inside and glanced Felix up and down with a simmer in his gaze. “Well, it wouldn’t do to let you catch cold. I’m afraid the clothes will have to come off,” he said.

“Smooth,” Felix commented, still amused despite himself as he let his jacket fall to the floor – it would need to be dry cleaned either way at this point. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you planned this. Aren’t you the guy with eyes everywhere? Should’ve seen some rain coming.”

Q, in the process of stripping off his sweater, snorted. “You don’t predict the rain here, it just happens. Our weather forecasters are mostly for show.”

Felix huffed out a laugh, going for his belt when Q made a thoughtful noise and abandoned his own damp clothes in favor of replacing Felix’s hands on his belt buckle.

“Of course, if you’re terribly put out about it, I suppose I’ll just have to make it up to you,” Q said, pulling the tongue of the belt through the loop.

It was another cheesy line, and Felix would have teased him for it but Q was already removing Felix’s belt and opening his fly in quick, efficient movements, and Felix really didn’t want to delay Q getting on his knees any more than he really had to.

Much later, lying on the wrecked sheets of Q’s bed, Felix couldn’t help giving a dry chuckle. “Y’know, I’d heard the Brits were polite, but this has been one hell of a welcome to the country.”

Q rolled his eyes, but didn’t look entirely unamused, even with his face half buried in a pillow. “It’s not exactly a standard welcome, but you caught me in a rather generous mood. In fact, if you’d like to stay, I’ll even round it out with a full English in the morning,” he offered.

“Not familiar with that position. You're gonna have to show me,” Felix replied, smirking when Q groaned.

“Agents really are the same all over, aren’t they? I’ve changed my mind, that was a terrible line and you need to go,” Q declared.

“Nope, I just got comfy. Unless your skinny ass is gonna throw me out the door, you’re stuck with me.”

“You had much more complimentary things to say about my arse earlier,” Q grumbled, turning an amused grin into his arm. “All you’re getting in the morning is cold porridge.”

Somehow, Felix doubted it.

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on [Tumblr](https://solarmorrigan.tumblr.com/post/186052937078/atmospheric-conditions-james-bond-felix) if you like to come join the Fest fun over there


End file.
